The Panty Entitlement Protocol
by Nate-kun
Summary: "Hey, remember that one time we drank Swirlix milkshakes and footsie-fondled under the table?" "I try not to." -Because today is a stupid day that obligates me and losers like me to do stuff like this. Kalosshipping, fluff, waitresses that may or may not be gelatin, bite me.


**One time some guy I don't even know walked up to me in the middle of the street in a ghost town and asked me, "Dude why did you even write this?"**

**And I was kind of tripping balls so in turn I said, "I don't know, I just felt like it, plus it's Valentine's Day." and that's how I came to creating this. Now that you know my exposition, onto the clusterfuck that follows.**

**Much like every other single writer on this website, reviews and any other kind of general feedback are always appreciated, be it good, constructive, or blatantly bad. It lets me know that there are people reading, and unless they didn't totally, completely, and utterly detested it, then chances are that they'll probably read more of it if I dangle it in front of their faces. Thank you again in advance for your courtesy.**

**Here's something that bugs me: What's the point of disclaimers, exactly? This is a fan fiction website, of course everyone ****_isn't _****the original developer. Why do you have to tell people that when they read your shit? Are there people who think they'll be sued for their silly inoffensive one-shots? Honestly, come on now. That's about as contradictory as characters who talk to themselves in script form in the A/Ns. Shudder.**

**Word Count: 1954 words.**

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><p><span>The Panty Entitlement Protocol<span>

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><p>"<em>Cesser d'utiliser des traducteurs... <em>That sounds kinda appetizing, don'tcha think?"

Calem looks up from the menu into the fiery eyes of the impudent hussy whom his eyes regard with tender admiration and kindness.

"Sounds dumb." says Serena, who doesn't take her gaze away from the list of scrumptious desserts, despite the fact that she herself doesn't know a lick of the language that adorns the name of that course.

A parfait is on the table, what was once a frozen delight has now deteriorated into a gloppy, soupy, creamy mess piling up at the bottom. A mixture of sweet liquids and goop, much akin to that of the rotting gunk and whatnot found in the deepest corners of the most repulsive kitchen sinks.

That is, with the exception being that this amorphous goo isn't as stomach-turning for the same reasons as that unwashed sink. Rather than not being sweetened enough, this ooze is _too _sweetened for consumption.

Too sweet for Serena's appetite anyway, apparently, which is why she leaves it unfinished and unsupervised, a fleeting reminder to the boy that the cause of their bill spiking up a few bucks is the picky maiden in front of him.

"We can ask them to take it to-go, you know." he suggests.

The girl gives him an expression of uncertainty and a cocked eyebrow, but still doesn't look at him directly, "It's practically a drink by this point, don't bother."

To which Calem replies with a rather bold move, "Can I have it then?"

She looks up, derision clear in her tone, "Can you have an over-sweetened melted parfait screwed the hell up by my contagious backwash? Yeah, sure, whatever, be my guest."

That's all the confirmation he needs to dig in.

A shaky hand reaches over the table to swipe the glass. As soon as Calem acquires the treat, he daringly sticks it to his mouth, then lightly tips it upward, sloshing the creamy sludge to and fro until it hops on a slope descent towards his mouth.

Calem drinks the sickly saccharine abomination for approximately a second and a half before cringing and retracting his lips.

"Augh! You're right, that _**is**_ too sweet!"

Serena has little sympathy for the weak, however, and continues to gloss over the menu as if those events hadn't taken place, "Your fault for downing it, I warned you."

"I-I thought you just didn't want me to drink it!"

The girl gives him a light 'hmph' before diverting her gaze once again, attempting to feign carelessness. But Calem is able to see through her mirage, and he offers a sheepish smile and laugh while scratching the back of his neck.

Although the boy's initial plans for the day consisted of a casual outing envenomed by their back-to-back banters and self-deprecation inside humor, the weather had other plans.

It's worth mentioning that the two are the only patrons in the café, both inside and out.

That, and it's extremely humid as a result of the aftermath of a muggy rainstorm. The typical hustle-and-bustle streets have subsided for the most part, leaving behind an uncharacteristically barren side of Lumiose that rarely falls into fruition.

Not that those factors are enough to deter Calem from his dumb goal of serenading his love interest. His spirit is too adamant (or for lack of better word, stubborn.) to throw in the towel so soon.

Their waiter briefly visits them to ask if everything is up to par and if either of them will be having anything else. To her surprise and befuddlement, they both answer yes. Of course, she doesn't the let the façade of a humble waiter slip, for a pay cut and scolding from her supervisor is never a priority on her agenda.

Business is business either way, regardless of how asinine and stifling it is.

So stifling that the waiter makes a very subtle effort to quickly take their orders, before powerwalking back inside the café, where the limits of the commercial-size air conditioner are next to nothing.

As soon as she's gone, Calem speaks up, "You know, this isn't how I remember it."

Fletchlings by the handful chirp overhead as Serena rests her chin on her fist, "Of course it is," she says with a sardonically cheery tone, "Y'know, aside from the annoyingly high amounts of vapor and the fact that we're the only ones here, it feels just like way back when!"

Her flagrant cynicism drives him to lightly kick her under the table.

"_Only ones here, _huh? Do you think we can get down and dirty here? I've been meaning to practice on how fast I can pull a woman's panties off." he lewdly suggests, smug face and all.

Off-base comments like those are the very few diamonds in the rough that can get the girl to briefly drop her berating behavior, in exchange for a fleeting moment of embarrassment, "W-What?! You and I both know that waiter is watching!"

Calem admittedly enjoys taking advantage of Serena at her weakest, "What if I want her to watch?"

"I-I'd call you disgusting for even suggesting such a thing, and worse yet, _asking a has-been like her to do it!_ But even those words wouldn't be enough because you're already such a perverted ass!"

Taking it as a compliment, Calem pound his chest with a sense of pride, "I do try."

The girl lets out an a huff while the boy snickers at her for it.

Serena looks away from him with a light blush tinging her face, in some vain fruitless attempt to pretend as if the vehemently loathsome, dreadful, repugnant, unappealing juvenile twink in front of her doesn't exist.

But than that other side of her creeps in, the one with that sinking feeling that slowly warms her shy, hesitant heart up and cause her to view the boy in a reciprocated light.

That same twink also manages to be the most gentle, affectionate, warmhearted, caring, altogether benevolent young man she's ever had the pleasure of meeting.

He's not half-bad looking, either.

As if those other thoughts weren't toxin enough.

In an effort to dodge her befuddled feelings, Serena crosses her arms and legs and tries to re-rail the subject of the conversation, "R-Right. S-So, what were you saying? About how this isn't how you remember things?"

Calem isn't dumb. Or, at least not _that _dumb. He sees through her thinly-layered mask and knows every single way to puncture and pierce through it.

As the birds above them continue to tweet and chirp, Calem muses allowed about things of nostalgia and whatnot.

"Oh, that! Yeah, I was going to say something but then you had to open your dumb mouth and talk all haughty-"

The girl tries to kick him with all of her might, but he predicts the move and swiftly moves his legs out of the way.

Serena makes no mention of it, and Calem continues on, "This isn't anything like our first date. I mean, it's hot, it's wet, the café is a ghost town, and instead of contemplating on traveling together, we're instead talking shit about the waitress.-"

"It's not my fault she can't wear that apron good."

"You'd look nice in it, I mean, if you weren't wearing anything else."

"Shut up. A-And for the last time, that _wasn't _a date!"

"But it so was! Stop being in denial, it's cute but it's also blinding you from the truth!"

"The only truth here is that you're insufferable."

When the boy doesn't say anything in return, Serena goes on.

"A-Anyway... Why should it have to replicate that day, anyway? Just because we're at the same stupid café that can't make a good parfait to save their lives?"

He mulls over her question, lips cutely pouted in a pondering fashion, before answering with a smile and a raised finger, "Well it is the fourteenth after all, I guess you could say I just wanted to relive those sentimental feelings...t-that I had with you, you know, by spending it today at the place where it all started..."

This smile quickly fades and gets replaced by the look of a boy who's just realized the dorkiness emitting from his mouth, "T-Thought it'd be c-cute..." he mumbles.

"It's kind of hard to replicate that when we're out in weather like this, isn't it?"

Feeling rather lonely, Calem picks up his chair and moves over to Serena's side of the table. As soon as he plops down in his seat, he leans on her shoulder and nuzzles her, his arm boldly snaking around her waist.

"Okay so it's not _exactly _like how things went that day," he starts saying, pausing briefly to intake her delightful french vanilla scent, "but at least we're almost partially alone and still have each other right? I mean, if we're lucky that waiter might just go on a lunch break, we'll be able to make out and she won't even know a thing!"

Serena tries to nudge him away, but those damn knots in her heart stop her after the first few attempts. She loosens up, relaxes into his warm touch like she always ends up doing (but will never directly admit to.), and inadvertently grows a little more fonder.

Caught up in the moment, Serena makes a spontaneous verbal observation, "I don't remember this happening on that date, either."

She's quick to notice her the mistakes of her blurting out and tries to fumble with lampshading it, but only stutters come out.

"Hold up, **_you just called it a date!_**"_  
><em>

Calem picks up on this, and takes amusement in teasing her about it.

"I-I did not! Shut up! Y-You, you're hearing shit again!" she retaliates at his blatant views with a fist to his head.

"O-Ow! Hey hey hey, no need to get so testy! Totally ruining the moment here, how the hell am I supposed to give you my cheesy card, a rose, a chocolate or two, and a _missionary impossible_ if you're all peeved like that?"

The distance is closed up between them. Whether it was he or she that made the move is undetermined, but it doesn't matter, what does is that they're there, together on a sort-of special day, talking of stupid, irrelevant matters in a Lumiose City waft within a hellhole of humidity.

Serena figures that as long as she's spending a day's worth of cute shit in that sultry cesspool, it might as well be with someone that she can at the very least tolerate.

And maybe even a little bit more than that, in small doses.

As the two canoodle in a barren public, Serena's eyes dart over to the café's windows. She looks inside in search of their waiter, but finds no one of the sort, leading her to feel more annoyed by the establishment's apparent lack of employee training.

"W-When the hell is that waiter coming back? S-She's taking forever, I want another damn parfait..." the girl mumbles, again with the last minute denial.

Denial that is quickly shut down when the boy lightly presses his lips to her neck, "Don't know, don't care! All I hope for is that she stays wherever she is for a little while longer to prevent her heart being shattered, that, or letting you borrow her apron."

"I'd look stupid in an apron.."

"You'd look wonderful."

"Stop being so generous, drop that bias."

He lets out a chuckle, "I kinda **_have to,_**don't I? Especially today, I mean-Okay, okay, how about this then? Imagine _me _in an apron, would I look good? Do I look like a pretty girl? How loose does it hang off my shoulders?"

"C-Can we just get the tab and get out of here?"


End file.
